


You Owe Me

by AlexKingOfTheDamned



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Enemies to Friends, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Past Abuse, Slavery, eventually to lovers, possibly future anders/fenris/isabela?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 19:37:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9286925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned
Summary: How could anybody carry on after someone they thought they could trust very nearly gave them back to their abuser?Fenris doubts he can.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HEYO so firstly this was written with my dear friend over at selapetrae on tumblr so if you wanna go interact with his Anders, that's an rp blog. 
> 
> Secondly, this was based on, of course, the scene where Danarius confronts Hawke about Fenris. During that scene as I was exploring the dialogue options I realized there's an option for you to initially say you'll give him to Danarius, and then redact your statement, and doing so... doesn't seem to have any consequences with Fenris??? At least none that I could find on the wiki, someone correct me if I'm wrong. 
> 
> But yeah! So this fic is exploring that idea. Along with the fact that both Anders' mun and I are deeply irritated by how OOC bioware made Anders and Justice both in that scene. I mean, approving of giving him back to his master??? Seriously???
> 
> The dialogue isn't exactly 100% to the cutscene, I had to shuffle some things around. Obviously this is just "generic aggro hawke" and this is in no way how I actually view hawke canonly! But for the purpose of this fic, I had to make Hawke enough of a raging fucking asshole to justify the kind of behavior that would cause someone to almost give Fenris up and then decide "lol nah" so yeah. This is painful! Enjoy!

It hadn't been easy to get Hawke to agree to come, which should have been a warning flag for Fenris to begin with. His sarcastic remark about everything going 'according to plan' and dismissing his anxiety about meeting with the sister he doesn't remember cut him deep, but as usual, Fenris kept it inside. Even with Hawke, he's always felt like there were things he couldn't reveal.

 

Perhaps it was the fact that he was a mage, there's still that instinct buried that he shouldn't reveal his whole heart to any mage. Perhaps it was the fact that Hawke would frequently dismiss his fears with ill-timed and often inconsiderate jokes. Either way, he knew it wouldn't go well the moment Hawke decided to bring Anders with them. Even bringing Isabela wasn't enough to keep the bitter taste out of his mouth that something was going to go wrong.

 

Of course, Hawke would have brought Anders along with them. He was the best Healer in all of Kirkwall after all but Fenris and Anders hated each other. It was like bringing a cat and dog together in the same house when both were just inherently different from one another. They could have probably got along if one of them would budge but both were too stubborn to give even a little bit. They had argued the entire time, Anders going on and on about mage rights. It wasn't until Hawke told them both to shut up that Anders truly began to think about the situation. It was a bit fishy that this sister appeared out of nowhere but he didn't care as long as she took Fenris with her when she left.

 

When Fenris sees her, his heart slams up into his throat. "Varania," he says, taking in the sight of her. Red hair? They don't look alike. But mother had red-- mother. "I remember you," he says as memories flash nebulously in his mind. "You and I played in the courtyard while mother worked... you called me..."

 

"Leto," she says, standing up. "That is your name."

 

 _Leto_. His heart hurts. He catches the look of guilt in her eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you so--"

 

"It's a trap," Hawke growls from behind him. Fenris' gaze snaps to him and then follows it to the stairs, where he sees Danarius come marching down with a contingent of men. Fenris feels his heart stop and he staggers a half-step backwards. Ears ringing, eyes burning, heart slamming, hands shaking, Fenris can feel Danarius' filthy hands on him just through his gaze.

 

"It's been a while, Fenris," the old man sneers as he comes up to the group. "And this? Is this your new master? The Champion of Kirkwall, hm? Impressive."

 

" _You're_ his old master?" Hawke sneers, looking the old man up and down.

 

"Do I detect a hint of _jealousy_?" Danarius croons. "I'm not surprised. The lad is rather _skilled_ , isn't he?"

 

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, DANARIUS!" Fenris roars, and his hand strays to his sword, but he falters when he sees all of Danarius' men mirror the action instantly.

 

Danarius gives a suffering sort of sigh. "The word is _master_. I will teach you again soon. In any case, I've come for you and you have nowhere else to run. Your new master cannot protect you from who rightfully owns you."

 

"I don't want to fight," Hawke crosses his arms.

 

"You don't get a choice," Danarius smirks.

 

"No. I mean, I don't care to fight. You can just have him."

 

Fenris feels the bottom of his stomach drop out and he staggers a step back. " _What_?" he says it so quietly it almost can't be heard.

 

"Hawke!" Isabela shouts. "You're _joking_! You can't be serious! This is _wrong_!"

 

Danarius looks surprised. "Really? Well, in that case, you would be richly rewarded."

 

"Hawke, don't do this," Fenris can barely speak over the raw betrayal scorching his throat and chest. "Don't-- _please_ , I _need_ you--"

 

Anders seemed rather apathetic about the entire thing, a family reunion between Fenris and his long lost sister was hardly heart wrenching. He was still fuming from earlier and when Hawke stated that he would give Fenris back, the healer mumbled under his breath. "I thought I was the only one thinking that." As soon as he said it, Justice roared in his head and golden eyes flashed blue.

 

 ** _How could you, Anders?_** Justice's voice hissed out in seething rage. _**How could you doom another to a fate similar to yours? You are not a monster. This is not a choice the man I melded with would make willingly? Look at him.**_

 

His brows furrowed nervously, he turned to look at Fenris and what he saw stalled his heart. _**You see it, don't you? Anders, you have worn the same face countless times. That fear, that pain. You two may disagree on everything but you are the same when it comes to your pain.**_

 

"I'm sorry." Anders whispered under his breath, only Elven ears would have picked up on it.

 

Hawke gives a suffering sigh, like it's a chore, and says, "Fine. You owe me."

 

The fight that ensues is bloody, and when Fenris finally crushes Danarius' throat in his claws, it gives him no pleasure whatsoever. He rounds on Varania, who is cowering against the wall.

 

"Please, I _had_ to," she tries to beg for her life, "He said he would make me his apprentice, I would have been a magister, you have to understand--"

 

"You sold out your own _brother_ to become a magister?!" Fenris roars, tears in his eyes. He can only handle so much betrayal in one day.

 

"Please, don't let him do this!" Varania's eyes turn to Hawke, pleadingly.

 

"Fenris," he barks. "Leave her be. She doesn't deserve your wrath."

 

"Hawke!?" The crack finally makes it through the other side of his heart and he can feel it shatter into pieces. Varania runs, leaving Fenris just standing there, looking at his companions in shock and horror. He doesn't even notice the tears running down his face.

 

"Fenris," Isabela speaks up first, taking a step forward. It breaks the spell and Fenris charges past them, shoving Hawke out of the way when he tries to reach out and grab him, and leaves the door banging on the frame behind him. Isabela looks at Anders and Hawke, murder in her eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?!" she snarls like fire, and then makes chase after Fenris, her voice calling his name echoing quieter as the distance grows between them.

 

Silence for a while. And then Hawke rolls his eyes and sighs, looking around at the mess they left in the tavern. He looks back towards Anders. "Wanna help me loot?"

 

Anders' head had dipped down in shame, Isabela had been right to look at them like that. Andraste's flame, the healer was having a hard time with his own decision regarding Danarius. What he'd done was wrong, he knew it the moment Justice had flared to life. The blond shook his head at Hawke's question, refusing to meet him in the eyes. "No, I..." He licked over his lips. "I should get back to the clinic, I've been gone for too long." With that, the healer pivoted on his foot and marched out towards Darktown.

 

 _ **Your anger blinds you.** _ Anders sucked in a breath as he walked down the darkened streets, staying out of sight from the Templars. _**You condemned him to the same fate as you without hesitation.**_ He let out a growl of anger.

 

"I know, Justice. It was wrong, it was... I'm disgusted at myself but there's nothing I can do about it now. At least... he's safe now. Despite my foolish involvement, he's safe and he'll hate me forever."

 

_**Isn't that how it's always been?** _

 

"I should have tried to understand."

 

_**I know.** _

 

"I'm no better than Hawke."

 

Nobody sees Fenris for days. Isabela found him that first night, she says, but gives them no further details. She's refusing to speak to Anders or Hawke. Hawke has yet to apologize for what he did, and Anders even overheard him loudly complaining in the Hanged Man to both Sebastian and Carver about how Fenris has been "weird" lately.

 

"I helped him kill his old master, or whatever, and he's being an ungrateful brat about it. Won't even come stay with me overnight anymore, I've barely seen him in the last four days."

 

"Yeah, well, Fenris has always been a giant pain in the ass," Carver sneers, tipping back his bottle. "I would've just given him up, honestly. Surprised you didn't go through with it. You're always talking about what a little bitch he is."

 

And Hawke _laughs_. "Yeah. He is a little bitch, isn't he."

 

Anders had tried to ignore it at first, he didn't really like hanging out with Hawke when Sebastian was in the group but he'd had enough. His tankard slammed down on the table as he eyed the two brothers furiously. "Fenris was a _slave_ , you pricks." His hands pressed against the table as he leaned forward.

 

"He was tortured, raped and who the fuck knows what else while under Danarius' thumb. He wasn't being a _little bitch_. This was a man abused for _years_ of his life, that doesn't go away. It stays with you forever and instead of helping him, you played with him like a toy."

 

"Didn't you say you were thinking the same thing about giving him up?" Carver asked with a raised brow.

 

"Yes... and I was wrong. I should have never thought about it, no matter how much I dislike Fenris. No one deserves to go through what he did or deserves to be treated like he was by you, Hawke."

 

Hawke scoffs and waves a hand. "Why don't _you_ just go make out with him then? He's certainly not putting out for me right now."

 

"Is that all you ever think about, Hawke?" Anders hissed out. "He cares about you and all you seem to care about is having sex with him. He trusted you enough to give that part of himself over to you despite what happened to him. And you tossed that aside like it meant nothing."

 

"Easy for you to say," Hawke says, his lip curling. "You don’t have to listen to him whining on and on about 'slave' this and 'Danarius' that and 'I can never trust anybody' everything else. Doesn't matter how you treat the lump, I gave him _everything_ , I was nice as a fucking flower and it doesn't matter, he's always an asshole to everyone forever, the end. He _deserves_ to have some manners beaten into him."

 

"He was _traumatized_! Of course _you_ can't comprehend what it was like for him. The shame of having to carry that around, feeling like it was his fault, the anxiety and anger, the self destructive behavior because we--” his voice breaks in half. He takes a deep breath. “Because _he_ can't seem to realize that he’s worth something after all. Of _course_ , he'd have trust issues and he _trusted you enough_ to talk about them! You don't just get over years and years of mental and physical abuse."

 

Anders had gotten so angry that he'd set the table on fire and hadn't realized until Sebastian scrambled from the table. "The only thing he _deserves_ is his dignity back from _you_." The healer shoved himself outside of the tavern, taking a deep breath of the not so fresh air. His hands shook from anger, hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

 

"And he deserves an apology from me, but I'm the last person he'd want to see." Anders whispered to Justice as he bolted from the scene before he got into trouble for setting the table on fire.


	2. Chapter 2

Fenris didn't know what to do with himself. He didn't want to be around anyone, but he was scared to be alone. He was scared for what he might do. He tried to go to Hawke, but Hawke just told him he was being ungrateful. _Ungrateful_. The word burns in the back of his throat like bile.

 

He's never felt so betrayed before. He's certainly been in emotional anguish like this before, but it's never been exactly like this. He trusted Hawke, he trusted him more than anything and he was just going to... give him back. And now Hawke thinks _Fenris_ owes _him_?

 

The anger rises to a boiling point one night, and he can't drown it anymore (not that he didn't try, an entire bottle and a half of wine have gone in and out of him) but it's starting to burn him up. He tries his age old tactic of releasing some of the pressure by taking a small blade to his upper forearm, but it isn't enough. It doesn't give him the release he needs, not even four cuts later.

 

Lucky for him it's easy to find ruffians out at night to fight. Unlucky for him, the group of four that he thought he found was actually a group of twelve, and he barely escaped with his life.

 

Autopilot takes him where he knows he'll be safe. He leaves a trail of blood behind him as he wobbles into Anders' clinic in the middle of the night. Anders is of course not out, it is night time after all. He doesn't bother knocking, he just throws open the door to Anders' tiny bedroom and leans heavily against the door frame.

 

"Mage," he chokes out as Anders startles awake from the impact of the door on the wall. Fenris' voice is choked and tight. He's holding his ribs with one hand and shivering, but not from cold. Just seeing Anders' face contort into concern makes Fenris choke up, and tears cut through the blood on his face. " _Please_."

 

When the sound of his door being thrown open reached his ears, Anders was on his feet with his staff in hand, thinking it was Templars. What he saw instead made his blood run cold, his long hair was tangled around his face from restless tossing and turning. Eyes wide as he stared in concern at the elf covered in blood, he tossed his staff down and ushered Fenris out on to one of the cots. Fingers pulled his hair tightly into a bun so he could work on stripping the elf out of his armor to better see his wounds. "What the hell happened?" He asked as he cleaned the blood away from the first wound. "It looks like you tumbled down into a pit of blades."

 

The deepest wound in his side was healed first, to keep Fenris from bleeding out. "It doesn't look like you've been poisoned but how are you feeling? Give me all of your symptoms even if they seem unimportant." Fortunately, it was quiet in the clinic, he didn't have many patients tonight.

 

Fenris is shaking with the effort to keep his emotions in check, but just having hands touch him now, kind hands, even if they belong to a _mage_ , to _Anders_ \--

 

What he finally chokes out past a few gasping half-swallowed sobs is, "M- my _heart_ hurts--"

 

Anders paused, his bloody fingers hesitating before he leaned in to listen to the elf's heart. "I'm going to run a diagnostic test to see what's wr-" He knew what was wrong the moment he looked up at Fenris' face and he wilted, sitting back on his feet.

 

"Oh, _Fenris,_ " The healer wasn't sure how to proceed, continued to clean up the wounds he found. "There's nothing I can do for a broken heart, unfortunately. I don't know how to heal something that complicated." Anders stifled his own tears as he reached the elf's arm. "Fenris... are these self inflicted?"

 

Fenris pulls his arm away from Anders’ grip instead of answering him, closing his other hand over the narrow, shallow cuts on his upper arm. “I just want it to stop,” he growls, agony making his voice tight. “It hurts, I’ve never felt so-- so-- I-- I should have _gone with him,_ ” his voice cracks and he curls in on himself, still gripping his arm and hiding those cuts. “At least Danarius _wanted_ me--”

 

Anders allowed the elf to pull the arm away without protest and wiped his fingers clean of blood. "No, Fenris." The healer gave a sigh and pulled over a bucket of water. "Danarius wanted something to control, it was his greed of wanting something that he could not wholly have." Anders dipped a rag into the water and began to clean the blood from Fenris' skin. "And I... I shouldn't have been so quick to throw you to him, it was wrong of me. You deserve so much more than that and so much more than what Hawke did to you."

 

Fenris looks up to meet Anders’ eyes, shocked. His vision is blurry from drink and tears, but he can see the genuine remorse on Anders’ face. Not like Hawke.

 

Most of the blood on Fenris’ body, luckily, didn’t come from him. The wound in his side was severe but that’s taken care of, other than that he mostly has bruises and a few minor cuts. His clothing is saturated with the stuff and he doesn’t protest when Anders strips him and gives him a clean robe to wear for the night with a promise that he’ll make a trip himself to Fenris’ mansion tomorrow to get him something to wear.

 

Fenris doesn’t ask why Anders is being nice to him, even though he wants to. He can gather that it’s guilt without asking, anyway. He can see Anders looking at him every moment as he cleans him. He’s just trying to assuage his own guilt for agreeing with Hawke about throwing him to the wolves.

 

But he’s drunk and exhausted and in pain both physical and emotional, so he whispers, “What changed your mind?”

 

Anders didn't want to explain it, he didn't want to share his dirty secrets with the elf.

 

 _ **Tell him.**_ That was all Justice said, no reasons for why or explanations. The blond lead Fenris back into his bedroom and closed the door, he refused to do it out in public in case he lost control.

 

"Justice spoke up the moment I said those words that day, he forced me to look at you, to actually look at you. And when I did..." Anders pressed his forehead against the door, using the cool wood to calm himself. "I saw myself. We've had similar experiences in the past, you and I. I was too stubborn to realize it at first. The story is the same, it just a matter of where you put the mage."

 

His hand rubbed nervously against his own arm. "The years of mental and physical abuse that we've both gone through. We both carry the same shame, we're both angry and destructive in our own ways. We were both locked in a cage, broken and beaten until we'd forgotten everything except our pain." Anders dropped down on his bed and suddenly realized he was crying, he wiped at his face angrily. "I looked at you and I saw exactly how I feel. I was going to condemn you to a life that I would have never wished on anyone else because I was angry and I was wrong. No one deserves that. Especially not you."

 

Fenris doesn’t know how to deal with this. He didn’t even hear words like this from _Hawke_ , and they were supposed to be lovers. Hawke always told him to put the past in the past, that ruminating over things that already happened was pointless, to live in the present-- good advice, he supposes, if it didn’t also seem to come hand in hand with not wanting to hear anything about Fenris’ past. He wouldn’t dwell so much, he imagines, if he had someone to actually get it all out with. It’s only and always been inside of him, this terrible dark secret past, and if he could just get it out into the world…

 

“I think… Hawke…” he starts, hesitant to even say the word on his tongue. He learned some time ago that when slaves are used by their masters it’s considered rape, and he remembers how he’d lashed out at the idea, even though he’d been free at the time. You can’t be raped by someone you’re devoted to, and he was devoted to Danarius. It had been Isabela who gently taught him otherwise. Deep breaths. “Tried to… rape me.”

 

Anders eventually settled enough to stop squirming and moving around. He wasn't in his robes after all, it felt strange to be this naked in front of Fenris. Breeches and nothing else, all of his scars out for the elf to see. The blond wasn't sure how to respond to Fenris' next confession, if this had been before, he would have adamantly refused to believe it but with how Hawke had acted in front of Danarius and earlier in the tavern….

 

"Explain?" He whispered softly, the room was small enough that they could have easily reached out and touched one another. "How did he try to rape you, Fenris? I know this... is going to be difficult to talk about but I won't judge you for this."

 

Fenris stares hard at the floor. “I went to him,” he says softly. “The day after what happened, I… I wanted an explanation. I was so angry, he told me I was…. being dramatic. I didn’t know what to do,” he grips his arms, crossing his legs, sitting across from Anders on his little bed jammed up against the wall of his closet bedroom. A shiver of revulsion ripples up his body. “He said I was _dwelling_ , that I needed to _let go_ \-- he said I needed a _distraction_ and he pushed me against the wall.”

 

His voice chokes up and he releases one arm to reach up and grind his hand into his eyes. “I told him to stop but he told me I would th-- I would thank him after. I tried to fight him off but he is much larger than me-- he turned me around and said it again, that I would _thank_  him. I was yelling so much that his house boy came to the door and knocked and I was able to push him off. He called me-- _ungrateful_ as I ran--”

 

Doubling over on himself, he hugs his arms tightly and shivers with nauseous misery. “I trusted him, Anders, I _trusted_ \--”

 

Anders raised a hand to cover his mouth in horror, he stared at the elf wordlessly. Hawke had tried to _rape_ Fenris, tried to use the excuse of “distracting him” to do it. "Fenris, I'm..." An apology would have done nothing to help this situation, he shifted closer but didn't make a move to touch Fenris. All the words that Hawke had said that night in the tavern about Fenris... he had been referring to that moment, hadn't he?

 

"I should have set _him_ on fire instead of the table." He hissed under his breath and brushed a hand through his tangled locks. "He did try to rape you. You told him to stop and he didn't. He shouldn't have done that to you." Anders pulled his legs up on to the bed. "Hawke should have sat you down, he should have listened to you. What happened to you isn't going to go away, it doesn't just go away. Trust me, I know."

 

The blond leaned back against the wall and took a deep breath. "It only gets easier to live with after awhile but it's easier if you have someone to talk to about it. A relationship is more than just sex. It's talking to them, understanding them, protecting them. Sex is just a benefit, not a requirement."

 

Fenris looks up at Anders, searchingly. Has there been something here that he’s been too blind to see, because of… magic, of course. It’s always been about magic. He suspects he and Anders would have gotten along very well from the start had he not been a mage. And what reasons has he to hate Anders? He’s done nothing wrong, nothing that the rest of them haven’t done. He can’t condemn Anders for killing several people because he’s done the same, Isabela’s done the same, Varric and Hawke and Aveline, all of them. They’re all family in blood, both theirs and everyone else’s that they’ve spilled together.

 

“Danarius raped me for the first time when I was thirteen,” he says, and it starts from there.

 

The flood gates open, releasing the waters that are at least 80% wine at this point, and he blubbers about the agony of getting the markings, of how his master’s apprentice would find him and torture him with magic for no other reason than to watch him squirm. He details how Danarius would abuse him, force him to perform until his body would give out completely and then lock him in a cage as punishment for collapsing.

 

He talks about the Fog Warriors and how their mages had been kind to him, how Danarius forced him to kill them, all for his own pride, for his ownership of Fenris, he talks about how he’d obeyed because he thought he had no choice, about how Danarius continued to track him down, how he would run into him every now and then until he met Hawke and finally fell into the arms of yet another mage who hurt him.

 

“I don’t want to be like this!” Fenris sobs in anger, leaning against Anders now, gripping his shoulders too tightly in both hands. “I don’t want this anger, I don’t want this fear, I don’t want to hate people for how they were _born_ before I even know their _name_ but I’m so _scared_ \--” his voice cracks and the tears come again, full-body sobs that shake the whole bed.

 

Anders listened, he didn't laugh or look at the elf in pity. His attention was rapt, his expression somber. He didn't interrupt or ask questions, he just let Fenris talk. His fingers picked at the dirt under his fingernails, sucking in his lower lip. The only time he actually made any noise is when Fenris leaned up against him, Anders very slowly wrapped an arm around the elf's shoulders but didn't hold on tightly in case he wanted to move.

 

"Trust me, you do want to be angry." Anders murmured. "It's good that you feel anything at all after everything you've been through. We're... a lot alike." The mage wiped the tears from his face before he began to spill all of his secrets. About how the Templars prostituted him out because it was easier to rape male mages because they couldn't get pregnant. How they was beaten and broken, thrown in isolation where he was raped again and again. Recounted every escape attempt and punishment that was given.

 

"We even carry scars that we made ourselves." He raised a hand and pointed to Fenris' arm. "Except mine are on the inside of my thighs, they're easier to hide that way." Anders licked over his lips.

 

"I can't tell you that it's going to get better in time because I don't believe that." The blond sighed. "What I can tell you is that being afraid is okay. Without fear, there's no such thing as bravery and you are without a doubt one of the bravest people I have ever met."

 

They fall asleep together on that tiny bed, pressed together tightly to fit and sticky with tears. Fenris wakes first with a blinding headache and sore muscles from contorting to fit against Anders’ body all night, but his heart feels… lighter. Even knowing he’ll have to go back to Hawke eventually to tell him he doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore, knowing he’ll have to face him down, it doesn’t feel like an impossible task.

 

He just looks at Anders for a while, thinking back on everything he learned last night. Perhaps he has been unfair towards… mages. His instinct is to shudder at the thought of sympathizing with them, and perhaps he’s not going to go hold a picket sign for mage rights by the evening, but… he’s lying beside at least one mage who knows intimately, viscerally what he’s been through.

 

Anders’ eyes open to see Fenris looking at him. Fenris says softly, “Hello.”

 

Anders actually looks peaceful while he sleeps, his face not contorted into his usual grim expression. When those eyes opened, his cheeks turned crimson. Had they really slept next to each other all night? That was definitely not a sight he'd expected to wake up to but he couldn't say he minded too terribly. He'd never noticed it before but Fenris had the prettiest jewel-green eyes he'd ever seen. Fenris was... beautiful. The healer's heart jumped into his throat and he gave a small smile.

 

"Good morning." He whispered softly. "How are you feeling?"

 

“Awful,” Fenris admits, without any heat or bitterness, really. Despite the headache and the aches and the heartbreak and the fear and the anger, he feels… relatively at peace in this moment. He reaches out a couple inches to pluck a strand of hair from the corner of Anders’ mouth. His finger brushes his lip slightly when his hand retreats after the gesture.

 

Anders flinched for a second before he realized that the elf was just brushing his hair out of his face. It was such a sweet gesture, so gentle and not at all like how he'd pictures Fenris. "Yes, my bed really isn't the most comfortable thing to sleep on considering it's just a bunch of crates under blankets."

 

“Actually I meant your joints,” Fenris teases, and for once his prodding of Anders doesn’t seem to be malicious. “You’re very knobby for someone who spends so much time running about fighting. I expected you to have more meat on your bones.”

 

Is that concern? Maker forbid. He clears his throat, disentangling himself from Anders and re-closing the robe the mage had given to him last night. He coughs again, running his hand through his messy hair and brushing it back out of his face.

 

“Ah, about last night…”

 

Anders gave a laugh when he realized they were tangled together in the bed and managed to move without kneeing the poor elf. He sat up and stretched arms over his head, groaning happily when his spine popped audibly.

 

"Don't worry about it, Fenris." The blond glanced over his shoulder at the elf. "It's already been forgotten."

 

Fenris’ shoulders visibly stiffen. “Oh,” he says softly. He stands up from the edge of the bed. “Yes… that’s… good.” He walks to the door. Where is he even going? He’s nude besides this robe, Anders was the one who was going to get him clothes-- he just doesn’t really want to be in this room anymore with that new weight on his chest.

 

He makes it to the door and takes the knob in hand before pausing. He rests his other palm on the wood. _Are you really about to do this, Fenris? He’s another mage._

 

 _He’s not just another mage,_ he argues with himself. _He’s Anders._

 

“Actually…” he can’t quite bring himself to turn to look back at Anders. “I was going to ask if you… wanted to come with me tonight when I confront Hawke and tell him I’d like to end our relationship.”

 

Anders looked visibly shocked, he couldn't believe that Fenris, of all people, wanted his help.

 

" _Oh_." He whispered quietly before slapping a hand to his face. "Oh, Andraste's flaming tits. I thought you were talking about last night and I figured you were being macho and didn't want me telling anyone about it." He raised a brow at the elf. "Not that I would, mind you."

 

The blond pushed to his feet and pulled his robes over his shoulders, clasping his belt around his slender hips. The robes added more bulk to him than what he really had, he pulled his hair up into a ponytail. "Of course, I'll go with you. We could bring Isabela too. I'm sure she'd love to ream him for being such an asshole."

 

Fenris turns and leans against the door, his palms flat on the wood. “You’ll really come?” he looks uncertain. As hard as he fights it, that instinct is still there, waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for Anders to prove that instinct right. “Do you think… will Justice have anything to say?”

 

Anders smiled, an actual kind smile as he stared at Fenris. "Yes, I'll come with you. I'm not letting you face that bastard alone." He stepped forward as if to embrace Fenris, realized who it was and took a step back. "...You." He blinked slowly. "You actually called Justice by his name.”

 

Fenris only ducks his head, his cheeks burning. Anders smiles. “Trust me, he probably has a lot to say. You should have heard him last night."

 

Fenris looks back up at Anders. It had been Justice who fought for him when even Anders wouldn’t. Had he judged the spirit wrongly? Is such a thing possible? He sucks his lips into his mouth, searching Anders’ face, and he swallows, nodding once.

 

“Tonight,” he says, fussing with the front of his borrowed robe. He glances back up, jaw flexing. “Before then… supper? We could rehearse what we want to say… I’ll invite Isabela, too.”

 

Anders licked over his lips, rubbing his sweaty palms against his robe. He wanted to ask Fenris to stay with him, he was enjoying having someone so close, had enjoyed sleeping with another body and waking up to a face.

 

"Sure, that sounds like a plan." The mage chewed on his lower lip. "Fenris, if you ever need me for any reason. I'm literally always here at the clinic. Don't hesitate to come find me, okay?"

 

Fenris’ eyes find the floor again. He notices Anders’ boots against the wall. They look old, he’ll need a new pair soon. He looks back up at Anders face. “I understand,” he says, nodding. “I… will not hesitate. Thank you.”

 

Even though he closes the door behind him when he leaves Anders’ small bedroom to give him privacy to change and wash up for the day, it feels like he’s opening something brand new, terrifying and wonderful.

 

He wonders what sort of things Anders likes for dinner.


End file.
